


Let Me Thy Vigils Keep

by Xekstrin



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: Glynda is one of the oldest and most powerful werewolves to walk the land. One night, Glynda's witch neighbor interrupts her full moon duties, claiming that Glynda will need her help. Glynda doubts that, since in her opinion Cinder causes more problems than she solves.Then shit goes sideways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For my patron and good friend, @barddog

 

 

There was a Shepherd in every major city in the world. These areas were theirs to canvass and patrol, an apex predator keeping the rest of their kind in check. There were no appointed Shepherds, only volunteers. It was a grueling, task-filled, thankless role, but it was necessary for their survival.

Some were drawn to the job out of a sense of obligation, others out of a misplaced sense of parental instinct. Urges like that were uncommonly strong among their kind, and there were more than a few Shepherds who became de facto pack leaders of entire countries. Not with an iron fist, but an open hand.

Glynda did it because she thought it was important that at least one werewolf maintained the old ways. She did not mother the ones under her care, she mentored them. She drilled lessons into them, warnings and oral tales older than the first stones carved by human hands.

People these days were too soft. In her opinion it was why the population was getting out of control. Nobody was disciplining these young ones who came crawling to her doorstep.

_("Shepherd, I'm in need of aid.")_

_("Shepherd, please, I'm hungry and no matter how much I eat it doesn't satisfy me.")_

_("Shepherd, my family doesn't know, nobody knows, and I'm so angry all the time, and it hurts, it hurts so much, it hurts so much—")_

Each full moon was a nightmare. In between wrangling every stray pup in the city, she had to make sure no wolfborn emerged from the wild litters, stumbling onto two legs for the first time in their lives. Of course, it had been at least a decade since the wild population last produced a werewolf.

Regardless, every month she prepared for at least one.

The work began in the morning. She had the number of every established werewolf within five hundred miles. She knew their names, their professions, how long they had been a werewolf— since birth or bitten, from the womb or by tooth. If they had any family. If their family knew. If they were in trouble, behind on rent, sticking their nose into human business.

The names crossed out one by one. Some required only a text message, some a phone call or an email. The adults were easy enough to handle, and they knew their Shepherd would care for them.

The pups...

Glynda rubbed her forehead.

Oh, the pups.

If only she could round them up into a big zoo.

Then, too soon, the sun was setting, and she still had house calls to do. Too many pups still needed physical contact, an affirmation of her control over them. No shifting allowed without permission, no accidents, no bites.

A sharp knock at her door made Glynda's ears prick up. Figuratively, at least. It had been years since she let slip her human skin.

Most of her night was allotted to the youngest. Some of them couldn't even drive yet. They often needed her the most, holding their hand or their paw as they trembled in place, fighting the urge to change.

She invited those to come stay the night on her property. It was a little too early for her first call, however. So she was tempted to think it was some pup a little too eager to please her.

Except when Glynda opened the door, she saw nothing but red velvet. A lowered hood, worn by someone much shorter than her. Iron and red meat overwhelmed her senses, wafting from a picnic basket, and then the hooded figure glanced up at her, golden eyes looking freshly minted.

"Hello, Glynda," Cinder said with a coy smile, teeth too sharp and too white to be entirely human.

Glynda's jaw set stubbornly shut. "I have no time to entertain you. As you well know," and she moved to slam the door shut but Cinder pressed a palm to it. Even when Glynda allowed some of her true strength to leak through, trying in vain to shut the door, Cinder was strong enough to match her.

She gave up, and Cinder swept past her, smelling as always like the crushed end of a candle wick. Glynda couldn't growl without loosening her human skin, some, but she could do her best. "For God's sake, Cinder, it's the first full moon of the year. Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"I've come to _help_ you, Shepherd." The scent of blood hit her stronger than ever. Making herself at home, Cinder unpacked her basket, pulling out a feast of freshly butchered meat. The paper crinkled, a set of shears cutting through twine and unwrapping the first steak.

Ruby red and glistening, perfectly marbled, white fat spreading out like spiderwebs.

Glynda's stomach growled in protest, and she set a palm over her belly as though it too were a beast she could quiet.

Then her cellphone rang, insistent and loud.

"Pretend I'm not here," Cinder said in a stage whisper. With a few rapid clicks, she had Glynda’s gas stove roaring, set down a cast iron pan, and got to work cooking dinner.

 _What on earth are you up to, witch,_ she wanted to say, but one of her pups was calling. That was something that just couldn't wait. So Glynda answered the phone with a sigh. "What’s the matter, Schnee? I have you scheduled to arrive here in an hour. Has something gone wrong?"

Weiss sounded startled, taken aback by how quickly Glynda cut to the chase. But after decades of wrangling pups, Glynda knew when one was trying to weasel out of their obligations. "Apologies, Shepherd. I won't be able to attend our meeting."

Glynda’s hackles rose. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. You won’t get off that easy.” She began to pace, cutting off Weiss before she could try and squeeze in her feeble excuses. “You have another six years before I trust you to manage a full moon on your own. So either you come to me or I hunt you down." She paused to let the words sink in, raw power infusing her voice. "And I have your scent."

The girl tried to stammer out an explanation. "Yes, Shepherd, of course, I understand, I don't, I definitely don't think this is something I can handle on my own, but you see I'm not in town, I was just— I flew outside your territory, because I assumed—"

There was a rustle as the phone exchanged hands. A cool, familiar voice replaced Weiss's.

"I'm here to guide my younger sister, Shepherd. Just for tonight."

Winter Schnee. If there was ever a vocal equivalent of 'a sight for sore eyes', it would be their low, rumbling growl.

Winter spoke again, sounding distinctly amused. "I hope this doesn't come across as me usurping your duty."

Quite the opposite. It was a relief, knowing one of her charges was in such capable hands. "As long as she doesn't go the night alone, it matters not which Shepherd guides her." Dryly, she added, "Just give me more warning next time."

"Of course."

They exchanged scant pleasantries. After all, Winter had their duties to attend to, and during the full moon, time was a valuable resource. They both knew that.

When the call was done, Cinder offered her a steak. The witch sliced through it, taking a slow bite herself while matching Glynda's glare with a bright, teasing smile. "Look. It isn't poison."

"As if you'd ever brew the means to your own demise." Glynda took a hesitant sniff, but recoiled when Cinder sliced off another section and offered to feed it to her by hand.

"You'll need both your hands to type," Cinder explained, waving the morsel as though Glynda were a toddler in need of coaxing.

"To type _what_?"

Glynda's phone pinged with a text message. Sparing one last glare at Cinder, she unlocked her phone to answer the message. It was from Yang Xiao Long, one of her youngest and most paranoid. She reported a new werewolf in the area, one changing for the very first time, and needed Glynda's presence at once.

"Wonderful," Glynda said, and the moment she opened her mouth Cinder took it as an opportunity to slide a piece of steak into her mouth. Dutifully chewing, Glynda texted Yang back as Cinder licked her fingers clean.

She seemed displeased, critical of her culinary skills. "Needs more salt."

"It tastes fine," Glynda muttered. She would never admit she was ravenous, that the sight of a deer carcass on the side of the road made her salivate uncontrollably the night before. Cinder could have pushed anything into her mouth and Glynda's senses would be equally inflamed, the hint of blood driving her wild.

She showed not a hint of this. Instead she grabbed her car keys. "You'll have to entertain yourself while I'm gone," she called as she left. When she closed the front door to her house, Cinder was already waiting for her in the car.

"Shotgun," she said when Glynda ducked into the driver's seat.

"Why do you want to come with me?" She asked stonily.

"Why do you think?" Much to Glynda's irritation, delight blossomed in Cinder's eyes. "I don't make social calls often, Shepherd."

A hefty pause as all the gears finally caught, the teeth combing over each other in a rapid whir.

"You're here on business, aren't you?"

Cinder Fall, coven leader to the entire state and its adjacent territories, crossed her legs at the knee and shook her full mane of black hair over one bare shoulder. She leaned forward slightly, expression heating by degrees until it could be called nothing except pure, molten fire. "Oh, Shepherd. It took you this long to figure it out?"

Of course she wasn't here just to be a snarl in her pelt. Had Glynda truly convinced herself the woman was capable of such frivolity? Even given her eccentricities, there were a million other tasks that the coven leader could have been tending to tonight.

But she must have seen Glynda's name in her portents, saw an event severe enough that it required both of their attention as the two highest points of authority in this territory. That also explained her insistence on using Glynda's title. "You could have said something earlier."

No other living person could have disrespected Glynda the way Cinder so often did. Barging her way into an alpha werewolf's business without fear of repercussion. Baiting her. Goading her. Even one of her own kind would have thought twice.

Cinder knew it. She relished in it. "It's fun to watch you try to make sense of chaos."

"Dare I ask what's going to happen?"

"I saw your face in a silver scrying bowl." Cinder walked her fingers up Glynda's arm and over her shoulder. "You'll need me tonight, so very very badly."

Glynda snorted. "And the steaks?"

The picnic basket was packed and ready to go, resting between her ankles. Cinder gave it a little kick. "Can you think of anything more irritating to deal with than a hungry werewolf?"

"I can think of one thing."

Cinder just smiled and got comfortable for the drive ahead.

 

* * *

 

Glynda drove with a lead foot, typical for wolfborn. Not that she ever got in too much trouble for it. She lived outside the city limits, on the border between civilization and the wilds that longed to take root and tear it down.

Fortunately for her, the Xiao Long-Rose family were neighbors. It was a short drive.

When she exited, Yang was waiting for her, pacing wildly in front of her house. Upon sighting Glynda she loped over, but the words died in her throat at the sight of Cinder.

"Speak freely, pup," Cinder said. "What is suitable for the Shepherd's ears is suitable for mine."

Still Yang held her tongue, eyes darting from one woman to the other. Glynda tilted her head fractionally, and only after that subtle cue did the younger wolf relent.

"It's my little sister." She spoke in starts and stops, struggling to make a cohesive, linear story out of everything that had happened. "I think I turned her by accident."

Glynda stopped her in her tracks. "You aren't old enough for your venom to be that potent."

"I know, but when I scratched her—"

Oh, all the stars in heaven. Did the pup really call her out for this? "Claws can't transmit the change." Glynda spoke through gritted teeth. She resisted the urge to grab the girl by the back of her neck and shake her. "We've discussed your fears at length, child. You can't transmit the change by accident!"

"So why is there a rabid werewolf running in the woods?"

Beside her, Glynda felt Cinder tremble in surprise. Evidently she hadn't sensed the fourth presence here. Glynda, meanwhile, had caught Blake's scent the moment she stepped out of the car. She took no small amount of pleasure in the fact that the ineffable Cinder Fall could be so caught off guard.

The black wolf trotted out of the shadows, eerily silent for such a large beast. Blake's snout found its way under Glynda's palm, bright pink tongue licking her once in greeting.

They shared a certain bond, as wolfborn often do. And she knew Blake didn't spook as easily as a racehorse, unlike some pups she knew. "Tell me more," Glynda said, stroking a hand over the wolf's head.

Blake's ears pricked forward. "Yang's said all there is to say. She scratched Ruby by accident and the girl changed before our eyes."

"Curiouser and curiouser." Cinder quickly recovered, just enough to add some useless little quip. "Did the sister know anything before this?"

"No!" Yang flushed red all the way to her roots. She rubbed the stump of her missing arm, the tooth marks from her attack still starkly visible along her bicep and shoulder. "My family is totally human. None of them know."

Yang's case was one of the more tragic ones. Some vile creature had bitten her several years ago. A packless maladapt who took pleasure in changing young girls against their will.

Something about her drew Blake's interest, and they became friends. Every month, Blake drove by to pick up Yang. The wolfborn and the young pup often spent their full moons on Glynda's property, where she could keep an eye on them. 

So Glynda often heard of the sister, but had never seen her.

"Ruby is half turned and running wild," Yang continued. "I don't know why or how. She just... changed."

Glynda had never heard of such a thing. Quietly, she suspected that Yang's family tree held more wolves than they realized, and Ruby's latent instinct had just been awoken by the regular presence of her sister and their friend, Blake.

"Speaking of which." She levied a stern look down at Blake now. "Dare I ask why you are changed without my permission?"

Blake stood four feet tall at the shoulder, and six feet long from tip to tail. But at Glynda's harsh words, the wolf seemed to shrink into a black little ball of fluff, tail tucked between hind legs. "I was looking for Ruby."

Perhaps if it were anyone except her youngest wolfborn, Glynda would have pressed the issue. She knew firsthand that the ones born a wolf often held a more steady grip on their transformations.

Blake's tail wagged, a little uncertain twitch as the wolf tried to please the Shepherd. "I did catch her scent before I heard your car in the driveway. I can take you to her?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll go wrangle..." she inwardly groaned. "...The new pup."

Another shifter to account for every month. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

"Everyone else, please stay here. And for goodness sake, keep your human skins on. We're in public." Glynda eyed Cinder. "That includes you."

Cinder's heavy, molten stare never wavered. "Certainly. Someone needs to protect the pups while you're off hunting."

She could have stared down any man or beast on earth, but with the most powerful witch in a century it was usually a toss-up. Glynda was the one to avert her eyes this time. "Protect them from what?"

"Hopefully nothing." Cinder languidly blinked, but didn't elaborate, and Glynda refused to wrestle the true meaning from the witch's cursed mouth. So she went into the woods, stalking her prey with singular devotion.

[Glynda had no need to transform when the path was so clear.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hy7GSokyh90) The moon was bright enough, and Ruby left a very visible trail to follow. She noticed tufts of fur caught on tree trunks, signs that the young wolf had rubbed against them in search of relief. If the change was slow, all that vast, dense fur could be unbearably itchy.

This poor, lost little idiot. No clue what she was getting into. Glynda had similar problems, being born before any kind of guiding force could be brought to the werewolf community. So why were they having this problem now?

The sprawling, vast bloodlines of the shifters had finally become too disparate to handle, Glynda realized. If somewhere in Ruby's bloodline there were sown the seeds of wolfhood, the Shepherds should have known, and kept an eye on her and her kin, just in case.

Meanwhile the wild population of _actual_ wolves shrunk more every year. It was an imbalance; it wasn't right. In her youth, she'd been chased off by her own pack, their teeth nipping her pale alien heels as she ran on two legs. But she never stopped loving them, and when she dared to return in wolf form she found she had outlived them all. Then she outlived all the wolves in Wales.

Then she immigrated to America, and she chased their dwindling numbers further west and further south, a mournful guardian.

It took the better part of two hours for the trail to go completely cold. Glynda never lost her quarry before, not in at least a century. When she retraced her steps, she soon realized Ruby had doubled back at one point like a fox, knowing she was being hunted.

Then and only then did Glynda dip into her other senses, and let her ears grow long.

That was how she realized Ruby was right there with her, and that she likely had been that close the entire time.

A crack of brittle tree branch made her glance up in alarm to see that creature staring down at her, eyes wider and paler than the silver moon above. It was horrific; it was bestial. It climbed in the trees with simian grace, with claws the length of daggers and a split mouth, black lips so long and so thin they did nothing to cover rows upon rows of jagged teeth.

Ruby pounced.

Screaming in anger and fear, Glynda grappled with Ruby across the ground. Ruby's lips stretched all the way back to her ears, her jaw unhinging like a snake. Ruby's teeth shredded right through her shoulder, crunching bone and sinew like paper.

"Get off of her!"

Two deafening booms made Glynda wince in agony. Worse than the pain of being bitten was the roar of gunfire to a wolf's ears. Ruby went tumbling back, snarling in pain.

Before Glynda could struggle to her feet, Cinder stepped over her, expelling two shells from a very familiar shotgun and quickly reloading. "This piece of junk shoots _bean bags_?" she said, pale with anger as she cast a glare at the Shepherd.

"It's called a baton round. And I don't recall giving you permission to rifle through my car trunk," Glynda said, noting faintly that she was bleeding to death. Over everything else, Glynda was irritated. Her influence over all werewolves, even freshly changed ones, should be absolute. Whatever Ruby had changed into, it wasn't a wolf.

Ruby circled them, or tried to. She growled deep in her throat, flesh turned the color of raw clay. Cinder kept the gun trained on her, and when Ruby tried to lunge again she shot two more times.

Glynda flinched again at that terrible sound. Baton rounds were only nonlethal by the barest of technicalities; a blast this close might have cracked a human's skull or broken their ribs. However Ruby just shrugged off the second barrage, running right through it to try and maul Cinder.

Panicking, Cinder swung the shotgun by the barrel like a baseball bat. Ruby caught it in between her huge jaws, crunching right through and spitting it to the side.  
  
The forest erupted in light, the witch blazing up in an inferno of gold power. Her skin rippled, her human shape barely held in place, like pins barely holding together the shape of a dress on a mannequin. 

Ruby howled back in defiance, wreathed in silver, freshly-hammered and glinting.   
  
Then two more huge shapes hurtled through the darkness. Lupine snarls and yips of pain sounded out as Blake and Yang tackled into Ruby. They tore at each other, Ruby knocking one back only to be pounced on by the other. Finally they wore her down like an elk, dragging her to the floor and savaging her out of pure instinct.

Rushing right into the fray, in between flying fur and fangs and claws, Cinder pulled up the hem of her dress. A row of needles were fastened to her thigh, held in place by her garters. She took one and plunged it deep into Ruby's neck.

It didn't work at once. Ruby managed to get one more good swipe in, catlike claws ripping open Cinder's neck in a spray of gore and blood.

Grimacing, Cinder passed a glowing yellow hand over her throat and sealed the wounds in a blaze of heat. Yang held onto Ruby's right arm, Blake her left, and slowly the girl stopped thrashing. She zoned out, staring blankly at the stars as the other four waited and watched.

"[Cinder](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keYvZU3xTzQ)." Glynda spoke gruffly, not wanting to bring too much attention to herself. But Cinder was soon at her side, warm hands setting fractured bone and stitching flesh.

When Glynda could finally stand, she moved unsteadily to Ruby Rose.

The girl was crying, sniffling. Her body had slowly morphed back into human shape, and she writhed half-naked in the dirt, covered in bruises and scrapes. She tried to push herself away, heels carving furrows into the black earth. Yang growled in warning, teeth tightening over her wrist and she stopped.

"What are you going to do?" Cinder asked, rubbing her throat. The freshly healed skin was red with irritation, splotchy from the rushed job.

"I don't know," Glynda admitted, kneeling before her. She held Ruby by the chin, carefully angling her head back to look into her eyes. They were still bright as the moon itself, and suddenly another piece of the puzzle slid into place. "She's fae."

One sculpted black eyebrow rose up, concern warring with amusement. Cinder didn't need to say what they both knew: that was impossible. All the fae were gone... well, all except one, evidently. If Glynda hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed it either. Though it explain why Ruby responded so violently to Yang.

And why the witch saw fit to join them tonight.

Ruby's hand flexed, claws rippling just under her knuckles. The change was waiting in her, barely dormant, like mice rolling under her skin. "I'm not a monster," she said, tears streaming down her face.

"I know." Glynda soothed her as best as she could. "But you're not human, either. You need to let that go."

Ruby shook her head, still unfocused. "I won't. I won't. I'm not a monster!"

With that exclamation, a sudden surge of magic rushed into the area. The others stumbled, knocked off balance and squinting in the blinding silver light. It was brighter than the moon itself. It reminded them all that moonlight was nothing except the sun's pale reflection.

Glynda withstood it, watching dispassionately as Ruby struggled and sobbed, overflowing and denying everything that was happening to her. "Resist any longer and the strain will kill you."

 _No!_ Ruby howled, but not with a human mouth. It stretched out, almost wolfish, but with far too many teeth. _I'm not a monster! I don't want this!_ Thick, heavy tears stuck to her fur, and soon all words were lost to mournful howling. Blake and Yang tightened their grips on her wrists, and though they tried to be gentle, Glynda could scent fresh blood.

"Let her go!"

Glynda spoke sharp enough that Yang and Blake had no choice but to obey. They released Ruby and let Glynda scoop the girl up into her arms.

Glynda held her through the transformations, feeling fur, feeling scales and leathery wings, feeling hundreds of spines and horns. She didn't fully ken the scope of Ruby's powers, she didn't even know if the girl would survive the night.

But she knew pups. She pushed back with her own magic, gleaned over centuries, and molded her into something familiar. When it was over, a small red wolf trembled in her arms, with claws flexible and grasping as a panther's. Ruby kept sobbing, a human voice in a wolf body. Then it petered out, exhausted and soft.

"I'm so sorry, Yang," she said, head lolling drowsily. "I ruined everything, didn't I?"

And then she passed out.

"Good pup," Glynda said, exhausted. She stroked her palm over Ruby's head, hugging her. "Good pup, good pup. There you go. It's all going to be fine."

Blake was the one who dared to speak first. "What happened?" the black wolf asked. "What is she?"

"You could consider her your polar opposite, wolfborn." Cinder said, explaining absolutely nothing in true witch fashion. "We've got a good sampling of the entire shifter population here. Though now I'm curious about her sister..."

"Half sister," Yang said with reluctance. 

"Can we discuss this at my home?" Glynda asked. She rose to her feet, tossing Ruby over her shoulder. The red wolf remained still, tongue lolling out of a black mouth. "I still have other pups and appointments to meet tonight."

"Of course, Shepherd." Cinder reached forward into Glynda's pocket and took her car keys. "I'll drive."

 

* * *

 

She was late to accompany five other pups through their monthly transformation. They were all waiting on her porch, yipping and growling and snapping at her heels as she walked into the house. Blake, the oldest, gave a bit of order and structure to them while Glynda deposited Ruby on her couch.

Yang sat at her sister’s side, snout resting on the cushions. She watched her with that special brand of huge, sad dog eyes that only pups can muster. When she caught Glynda's gaze, she said nothing, but she whined deep in her chest.

"Don't be dramatic." Glynda pointed at the door. "You know the rules. No wolves in the house. Outside with the rest."

Displaying an unusual amount of resistance to Glynda's influence, Yang slumped down further on the floor. She cried again, a shudder rolling through her whole body.

So Cinder sat down on the couch, keeping Ruby's head on her lap. "Don't worry, I'll stay here and watch the kids." Much to Glynda's displeasure, Cinder couldn't keep her hands to herself. She started squishing the unconscious wolf's paw pads and velvety ears, cooing in delight. "It'll be fine. Kids like me!"

"The ones you lure with gingerbread don't count."

Ignoring Cinder's offended gasp, Glynda went back outside to round up the remaining pups. One of them broke into Glynda's car already, and dragged Cinder's picnic basket onto the lawn. The whole pack of them descended on the steaks with a series of yelps and excited screams. Bloody but sated, the pack passed the remaining hours grooming each other and romping around on Glynda's vast property.

Late next morning, they all shifted back. Confused and dazed, they gathered their clothes and bid farewell to the Shepherd.

She rinsed the blood off the grass with a garden hose, deeply exhausted. A dark hand took the hose from her, though, Blake's amber eyes still too wolfish to return back to human society.

"Allow me, Shepherd," her fellow wolfborn said. "Tend to the faerie on your couch."

Nodding, Glynda walked back inside with wooden feet. Cinder was still awake, but Yang and Ruby were both curled up on top of her. They remained in wolf shape, a pile of fur burnished gold and coppery red.

"I'm trapped," Cinder said, delighted.

"They're werewolves, not lapdogs." Well, mostly werewolf. Still, Glynda reached down to rub a fond hand over both their heads. "One of them ripped your throat out less than seven hours ago."

"But she's adorable..." Cinder took Ruby's big square head between her palms again, running her carmine nails through her black-streaked fur. "Can't I keep her?"

The Shepherd pierced right through the joke. "Is that your desired payment for saving my life?"

"I did that because I have a vested interest in you being alive."

"And no other reason?"

Cinder took her time responding. She ran her fingers through Ruby's fur, petting the girl in her sleep. When she looked up, a slow smile spread over her face. "You don't need to sound so accusational."

"You're a witch. Selfishness runs in your veins."

To say the faerie were the opposite of werewolves was categorically untrue. Changelings sprung without warning from pure and untainted human blood, much like the wolfborn emerged from their wild packs. But a wolf was a wolf, and fae shifters their own breed of chaos.

Balanced on the other end of the scale was no fae but a witch, just one witch named Cinder Fall. One who burned her path to leadership. Cinder held no qualms about slaking her thirst for power on her own kin. Much like the packless, bloodmad outcast who had ripped off Yang's arm at the elbow.

"Your desires are unclean," she added.

"If anything, my desires are economical. I devote myself to no one thing if I cannot glean multiple rewards from it." Cinder stroked a hand over Ruby's head. "Not everyone is so single-minded as you."

"It's manipulative."

"Is that so wrong, in and of itself?"

Her head hurt. To Glynda, shades of grey were the domain of evil creatures and untrustworthy humans. She did not dabble in it; she did not trust those who skirted too close to its border. "Name another price. That's my pup on your lap."

"And they say I'm selfish." Slipping free of the sleeping werewolves, Cinder walked up to Glynda. She wrapped her arms around the Shepherd's neck, pulling close until they were chest to chest. "Let me watch you transform tonight."

Glynda stood resolute, spine straighter than ever. "Excuse you?"

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Cinder said, one hand on the back of Glynda's head. "You don't like slipping free of your human skin these days. All that pent up potential... If I'm in the right place at the right time, your transformation could garner a lot of energy. My only regret is not thinking to try and harness whatever was rushing through you last night, with the little Rose in your bloodied palm."

The Shepherd grimaced. "What will you do with the energy?"

"Store it. Use it against my enemies." She rubbed the sore, tender, pink flesh of Glynda's exposed shoulder, and Glynda realized she was still wearing the tatters from last night. "Or heal my allies. Does it matter?"

"Of course it does."

"I'll also want one of your claws, and fur from your pelt. A tooth, if you don't mind parting with one."

"Fine."

Cinder seemed taken aback. "Truly?"

"As long as you leave my pups out of whatever you're scheming."

The witch considered it, swaying slightly with her arms still wrapped around Glynda. "Deal," she said at last. She arched up on the tips of her toes and kissed the Shepherd on the corner of her mouth. "I'll see you tonight."

Then she was gone, leaving nothing but curling red smoke in Glynda's hands.

She stood there for a moment, palms open but empty. Gazing at the trails of smoke that still surrounded her, Glynda finally breathed easy. A deep inhale, the scent of a candle wick being crushed, red blood, and a million other scents both foul and fair. When she finally roused herself from her stupor, she noticed that the two pups were awake.

Yang and Ruby stared at her with big black eyes, tails wagging.

"Out! No wolves in the house!" Glynda snapped, pointing at the door. Whatever had gotten into the pair last night, right now they were ready to follow her orders. Yipping and barking, they scrabbled out the house and onto the front lawn. Blake shifted in excitement to greet them, barking loudly before howling.

She had a fae under her stewardship, and a deal with a witch, and two werewolf pups still on her front lawn.

As she realized she would not get any sleep until midnight tonight at the latest, Glynda brewed a pot of coffee. With singular devotion, she accepted that fact and moved on with her day, already focusing on the next task.

[She thought of Cinder the whole time.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjydmHgzSfs)


	2. Chapter 2

 

The taste of smoke still lingered in Glynda's mouth, and she had to force herself not to think about what Cinder wanted with Ruby.

There was so much evil that could be done with an unleashed fae. The possibilities were endless. None of them were positive, ranging from the crass to the staggeringly malign and dangerous.

With sleep still in her eyes and her whole body aching from stress and exhaustion, the last thing she wanted to do was wrangle pups. But that's what needed doing, and the faerie on her lawn needed to be brought up to speed.

Once outside, introductions were finally made.

In wolf shape still, Yang bounced around Glynda's front lawn before coming to a halt at her side. "Ruby, this is Glynda Goodwitch. She's our Shepherd— that's like one of the leader wolves."

Ruby paused when she saw her, tail wagging uncertainly. "Hi, Miss Goodwitch." Then she ducked her head, tail tucked between her legs. "Oh, boy. This is really happening, isn't it? My sister turned me into a werewolf."

"Yeah." Yang hopped over to her. Though she was still missing a forearm in this shape, she'd learned to maneuver without it. Ruby closed her eyes as Yang gave her a few rough, but caring licks. "I'm so, so sorry, Ruby. I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

"It's okay. You..." Her ears flicked back against her skull suddenly. She growled deep in her chest, so loud that she seemed to surprise herself. She rounded on Yang, hackles raised. "Wait. Wait a minute. Not okay! _You turned me into a werewolf!"_

"Uh! Wait! No! I didn’t!" Yang backtracked, hopping to hide behind Glynda. She sank low, her belly to the ground."I mean, I don't think I did. Glynda says I didn't! Glynda, tell her I didn’t!" She looked up to Glynda imploringly, needing her Shepherd to step in.

Glynda reached behind her to pet Yang reassuringly, holding the other arm out to try and keep Ruby at bay. They were both significantly bigger than her in this form, and the absurdity of their actions wasn't lost on her. But they obeyed; that's what was important.

"Let's start with everyone putting their human skins back on, please," Glynda said. Then and only then would she invite them back inside. Her hardwood floors had suffered enough without wolf nails scratching them up. "Then we can talk."

Blake and Yang immediately bounced back into human shape, but Ruby struggled.

Her webbed, yet vaguely simian paws dug into the dirt digit by digit. She stretched and shoved, her eyes closed. A wheeze of effort escaped her throat, whistling out of flared nostrils.

Strange, to see something so familiar and so alien at the same time. New pups were often the same, but Ruby was a changeling— an entirely different breed of shifter altogether.

"Hold on just a moment, Ruby." Glynda reached down, holding her palm under Ruby's chin to lift her head up. "Look at me."

Ruby obeyed, her black eyes shimmering faintly. Occasionally thought she saw the flash of moonlight, but Glynda couldn't be sure it wasn't a trick of her imagination. Perhaps it was fortunate that Ruby had landed on Glynda's lap, rather than some other Shepherd. Or worse, a human. Changelings worked their magic mostly through willpower, which Glynda had to spare.

"What's something important to you?" Glynda asked, petting her over her head. "Something you loved as a girl, perhaps."

Immediately Ruby looked over to Yang, making little grunts of pain as her skin rippled.

"There's no guarantee you'll always have Yang."

That hurt her to say, but it was the truth. Relying on another pack member always seemed like a good solution but could quickly become a crutch. Ruby was having a hard time even with three other wolves supporting her. If she was ever changed alone, she needed to be able to have a fighting chance.

"I know it's hard," Glynda said. "We often don't think of what it means to be human until we're already something else. But you need to try, Ruby."

"I can't," she said after a while. "I'm stuck!"

"Just think about going hunting with dad," Yang suggested. "Remembering how to shoot a bow and arrow helped me tons because I have to think about my hands, you know? Like how they have to be a certain shape in order to work?"

That almost seemed to make things worse. Ruby was no werewolf, after all, but something much more amorphous. Distressingly enough, she shifted, but _only_ her hands. Her fur fell off in clumps, one eye black and the other silver-bright. For a moment that gray-skinned thing in the forest that had attacked Glynda revealed itself.

Then she groaned and popped back into her wolf shape, hunkering down into a ball of fluff.

"I can't!" Ruby said again. "I can't remember— ahh god, I c-can't remember _anything_ , I can't remember how to do anything, I don't know what it means to be a person, that could mean anything, I—"

Blake spoke up. "If I can suggest something."

The Shepherd nodded, so Blake took over. Dropping down to one knee, Blake took Ruby's head between two hands and said five simple words.

"Ruby. _Dogs can't eat chocolate_."

A loud yelp of pain and fear sounded out— "NO!"— and in the next few seconds Ruby landed on her rear, fully back in her human skin. Red-faced and panting, she glanced from face to face before regarding her own hands with a mix of horror and chagrin.

"...That was so stupid," Ruby whispered angrily.  
  
Blake started laughing.

"No! Don't you dare! I was having an existential crisis about the nature of my own humanity!" Ruby wailed, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking herself into a ball. "And you brought me back with chocolate!"

"In your defense," Blake said. "Chocolate is _very_ good."

Privately, Glynda had to agree.

As Ruby struggled back up to two feet, the other two moved in to help her stay steady. "Yeah, isn't that just an open secret by now?" Yang asked. "Werewolves are crazy about sugar."

"You're lying." Dark circles stamped themselves firmly under Ruby's eyes, but she was holding up remarkably well for her first transformation. "This is crazy. We're not really having this conversation."

Blake smirked. "How do you think I managed to convince myself to shift back those first few times?"

"You're just saying that to make me feel better!"

"I'm not. And I promise it'll be easier the next time."

"Actually," Glynda stepped in. Ruby didn't have the full picture yet, and the sooner she set things straight, the better. "If all goes well, you won't have to do this again. Though you share much in common with werewolves, you are not one."

"I'm not?" And a very long pause. "Oh my god! Don't tell me we have stupid special names for it, like lycans or whatever? I'm not going to say that, I'm going to call a werewolf a werewolf."

"You're a fairy," Glynda said.

In the span of around five seconds, Ruby visibly went through every stage of grief. At the end she opened up her mouth, inhaling deeply to say something sharp— and then deflated, leaning heavily against her sister. "Oh."

Yang patted her back consolingly. "It never really slows down after this, meimei. You gotta learn how to roll with the punches."

Ruby echoed the sentiment under her breath, sounding hollow. When they lead her inside and let her sit at the kitchen table, she was still mumbling. "Roll with the punches. Yeah, sure. I just gotta roll with it. Perfect! Easy as pie!"

As a reward for changing back, Glynda slid a bar of high-quality chocolate across the table in front of her. Both of the pups eyed it hungrily, and Ruby quickly snapped it into pieces for them to all share.

Once Ruby inhaled her share, she looked a little more clear-headed. Licking her fingers, Ruby took in the house with an absent-minded stare. Her nostrils flared, catching some lingering scent. "So this is where you two run off to all the time," she murmured, thinking out loud.

"I was always worried you'd connect the dots," Yang admitted. "I mean... vicious animal attack?" She waved her stump, where her arm ended at the elbow. "Vanishes every full moon? It's a miracle you didn't realize."

"My own gosh-dang period catches me by surprise once a month." Ruby snorted. "I don't have the attention span to track the _moon_."

"Fair," Blake said.

Glynda watched the three of them interact, glad that Ruby had some peers to ease her into this. The transition from average human life to one of a magical creature had a way of rattling people into a terrible version of themselves. She'd seen it happen all too often.

Maybe noticing the way Glynda was scrutinizing her, Ruby meet her scanning gaze with a curious one of her own. "So you're like... the alpha werewolf?"

"Few call me that," Glynda responded. "The formal title, as Yang informed you, is Shepherd."

"Aw," Ruby said. "Like we're your lil sheepies. That's cute."

Caught off guard, Glynda was surprised into smiling back at Ruby. "Yes. Since I'm the highest point of authority in this area, you are all under my stewardship." That is, unless Cinder decided to contest her claim on the fae. But Ruby didn't need to worry about that yet.

"I guess that makes sense." Maybe realizing she'd been staring into Glynda's eyes too long, Ruby dropped her gaze. She sounded almost meek. "Um, even though I'm... not a werewolf?"

"You're still in my territory; that means I'm responsible for whatever you do."

Glynda did her best to explain, but it was hard when there were no easy answers to give. As far as she knew, the last fae had died a century ago. But from what she smelled of Ruby and what she knew of her history, she matched all the signs of changeling. "Allow me to be a resource to you. If you have any questions, I'll do my best to answer them."

At that, Ruby's fingers drummed on the table, a little excited tic. "Wait! I gotta know which movies got it right. Are werewolves like genetic, like a disease, or are they magic?"

"A little bit of both," Blake said. "All wolves are magic. Every so often you'll find one like me or Glynda that wants to walk on two feet. And from them, we..." Blake leaned back, making finger quotes. " _Infected_ humans. Now that's how most werewolves are made."

Ruby stared at Blake. "You were born a wolf? Like the normal non-shifty four-legged kind. Like the wolves that tried to eat Snow White. The wolves you see at the zoo. Your parents are wolves. That kind of wolves."

Blake nodded, dead serious. Then they grinned, a sharp, hungry thing. "They— my family— think I'm immortal. I've outlived most of them."

That was almost too much for Ruby to fully grasp. She had a moment to think it over, the implications.

"Will that happen to me too?" she asked quietly.

"You're likely to outlive everyone at this table," Glynda said.

All her skin rippled in an instant, too fast for human eyes to see. But they all sensed Ruby's discomfort, heard the shifting of bones, and remembered that flash of silver magic radiating brighter than the moon. Yang set a hand over Ruby's, giving it a squeeze.

Ruby turned her hand around in response, so they could link their fingers together tightly. Chaos lingered under her skin, wanting to warp reality to suit the turmoil she was no doubt experiencing.

Glynda's nose wrinkled. "I'd advise against trying that again so soon."

Like a fire doused with water, the wild energy radiating off of her was stamped down. The girl turned red to her roots, agreeing in a hasty mumble. "I wasn't trying to! I don't even know why it happened the first time. Yang cut me, and suddenly I could just smell... feel..." She exhaled slowly. "Everything."

Teeth grit, Yang closed her eyes in shame. "God. I'm so sorry, Ruby."

"Enough of that," Glynda was quick to scold her. "Any exposure to magical influence would have set her off. Changelings shift to match whatever is closest to them."

"So because I'm around a bunch of wolves," Ruby said, "I started acting... wolfy? And this never happened to Yang because... why?"

"Yang is her father's daughter." Glynda hesitated. "You're called changelings for more than one reason."

"Meaning..."

Glynda immediately regretted her words, but it was too late to dodge the truth. "At birth your fae parents swapped you out for Yang's biological sibling."

Ruby grew even paler, exchanging a panicked glance with Yang. After that, there were no further questions, and Glynda didn't blame her. She was glad that for now Ruby seemed satisfied. There was so much to go over, they couldn't possibly explain it all over one conversation.

Further inside, Glynda lead her to the guest room. "There's a dresser filled with clothes. Some of them ought to fit you." She pointed to it before setting a clean towel into Ruby's arms.

As if realizing just now the state she was in, Ruby held the towel to her chest and turned red again. Her hoodie was in tatters, jeans stained with grass and blood. "Oh! Sorry. Thank you." And a pause, her lips pursing together like she was trying desperately to hold something in.

"Go on," Glynda said patiently.

"Are vampires real too?!" she blurted out.

"There was a subspecies of fae who dabbled heavily in blood magic," Glynda said. "They might be the basis for the legend. As far as I know, none survived into the modern age."

"Aw, nuts," Ruby said, deflating.

Seeing her so disappointed left Glynda almost wanting to reassure her there might be vampires left. After all, she'd thought there were no changelings, either, and look how that went. But she remained quiet until the girl shuffled into the bathroom and locked the door.

Back in the kitchen, Glynda snapped her fingers. Yang and Blake stood up at once, both of them alert and ready for instructions.

"Which one of you is going to watch over her in the interim between full moons?" Glynda asked. So far she'd gotten through this by treating Ruby as a new pup; this would be no different. Mentors weren't uncommon, and in this case, she felt Ruby needed extra eyes on her.

"Me," Yang said.

"I will," Blake said at the same time.

The pair looked at each other.

"We can share," Yang said after a moment. "We're always complaining about how our schedules don't match up, that might work in our favor for once."

"I hope you've reconsidered keeping your father out of the loop," Glynda said to Yang. "It will make this much easier."

Yang winced. It had been a sore point between them ever since Yang's first transformation. Glynda didn't like secrets, and the power of a family unit working in cohesion was not to be underestimated. Perhaps coming clean would ease some of the strain on her life. Perhaps the father had secrets of his own to divulge, about the nature of Ruby's parentage. Either way, Glynda needed to have a chat with him, and soon.

She needed to go on the hunt again, for the first time in a century.

"I... I'll think about it," Yang said at last. "Ruby and I have to make that decision together."

"Make sure that you do, and soon." Glynda heard the shower cut off in the other room. "A changeling making an appearance can’t remain secret for long. The other Shepherds need to meet her."

There weren't too many opportunities to gather them all in one place. Maybe she should start local, confer with Shepherd Schnee before calling any greater meetings. "I wonder if this Waxing Crescent is too soon to bring them all into my city."

Yang had been nodding along until that point. "Shit. Wait. How am I going to explain to dad that a strange woman is taking my sister to the furry convention?"

Glynda leveled a severe glare at her, but even when she squirmed and averted her gaze, Yang hardly seemed contrite.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride to Ruby's house was uneventful. The girl rode shotgun, staring out the window. It was spring, but the ground still held some chill, and every day was overcast enough to threaten snow. The weather didn't bother Glynda, but she wondered if Ruby would be warm enough in her borrowed clothes.

"How old are you, Ruby?" Glynda asked.

"Ninteen." She kept her chin in her hand, forehead pressed to the glass.

"A transitional age." Glynda flexed her fingers over the wheel, struggling to find common ground with the girl. "Blake's in a similar position. The oldest of the pups, but the youngest of the wolfborn."

"Yeah, I guess." Ruby shook her head a few times as if to clear it. "Sorry, why do you need to know?"

"Just trying to figure you out." Glynda cocked up an eyebrow at her, lips a thin line. "It's my job to make sure you integrate into society. College? Trade school? Got a job lined up?"

"I'm taking a year off after high school." She sounded a little defensive.

"And after the year is done, you want to study..."

Ruby, oddly enough, turned red again. "Medieval literature."

Hesitation mantled her, expectant. Ruby waited for something that Glynda didn't provide. "Good," Glynda said at last, when she wasn't sure what else to say.

"Good?" Ruby blinked.

"If it's what you want to do, it's good." It didn't get simpler than that, at least in her opinion. "As long as you don't hurt anyone. So you can stop staring at me like I've grown an extra head."

"Oh. Sorry. Most grownups tease me when I tell them that, is all."

Her grin was unpracticed, but occasionally a pup managed to sneak one out of her. Glynda was aware her teeth were often too sharp, but Ruby didn't flinch at the sight. "Most adults aren't alpha werewolves."

The girl gasped in delight. "So you do call yourself the alpha! I knew it!"

"It helps when I need to make a point." They were pulling up to Ruby's driveway then, a rumbling road more gravel than street. "People of... our lifespan, often stick together. It’s a very tight-knit community, that will support you. There are no homeless werewolves."

"But I'm not a werewolf." Her protests seemed borne more out of confusion than rejecting the idea outright.

"Doesn't matter. You live in my area, you're part of the pack." That settled it, in Glynda opinion, so she cut the engine. Turning a severe stare at the girl, she said, "Now go outside and punch my car as hard as you can."

Ruby's eyes went even wider, if that were possible. In her wolf shape they were black or eerie silver, but as a human girl they were just gunmetal gray. "Uh?"

"You want to be a part of the pack?"

"Y...yes ma'am."

"Then learn to do as I tell you."

Ruby nodded, getting out of the car. She wound up a feeble punch, papping the passenger door.

Glynda lowered the window. "Leave a dent. Pop the side mirror, if that's easier."

Nodding, Ruby took a few steps back and ran forward with a flying kick. Her side mirror went flying. That would have to do. When Glynda stepped out of the car, she clucked her tongue. "Now see what you've done," she chided. "You dented my car."

"...You told me to."

"That's a detail we don't need to share. You and your sister are bright girls, and I don't dislike you." Glynda bent down and picked up the side mirror. She tossed it into the air once, catching it thoughtfully. "Which is why I've decided you'll have to work for me for a bit."

The girl's face fell. "Aw, what?"

"I like to lie as little as possible. As fae, it's a policy you should also adopt." She tilted her head to the side, looking at Ruby over the rim of her spectacles. "Unless you want to tell your father the real reason you’ll be spending so much time with me?"

After a sharp inhale, Ruby thought better of whatever she was about to say. She bit her lower lip. "No."

"Then you need to pay me back for this mirror." She pushed it into Ruby's hands, and then marched her up to the front door just as Blake and Yang pulled into the driveway. "Don't you?"

Taiyang was younger than she expected, not a thread of silver in his hair. He had eyes wide as Ruby's. Innocent looking, almost— the girls seemed to take after him, Yang more so for obvious reasons. But a changeling could and often did shift to fit the family; Glynda had no doubt Ruby looked enough like Taiyang to fool the casual observer.

Weaving cover stories out of the truth was one of her many talents. Blake played along, instantly working off of Glynda's cues.

"Tai, this is Glynda." The wolfborn made introductions, watching them shake hands with a genuine smile. "She was my foster mother— one of the good ones."

They weren't close enough neighbors to already be on a first name basis, but Tai seemed to recognize her. So slowly, Glynda began to weave her tale. It contained nothing but the truth, twisted just enough to suit her purposes.

Glynda was old. Very old. When she wanted, she could let it show. And piece by piece, she had Tai believing her story. Then she even had _Ruby_ believing her story. When she declined payment up front, it left Tai asking if she needed any help around her property, and wouldn't you know it she would just love a pair of young hands to help tend to her garden because tulip season was just around the corner and Ruby seemed like a nice girl, really, just a little directionless and maybe they could work something out?

"Of course," Tai said. So like his daughters. He was easy to read. Red heat crawled up the back of his neck, painting the tips of his ears in an embarrassed fluster. "I'm so sorry about this. Ruby's never caused me any trouble before."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here," Ruby grumbled.

"Ruby," Tai started.

Without any further prompting, Ruby lifted both hands in defeat and went outside, to where Blake and Yang were loitering while the grownups had a chat. Glynda let her ears lengthen. Under the cover of her long blonde hair Tai wouldn't be able to tell. She kept tabs on the pups as she worked out the details of Ruby's temporary job.

"Can I have one of those?" Ruby said, exhausted. A muffled agreement and then click-click-click of sparks. Even from inside the house Glynda could smell tobacco and burning paper and just a hint of lighter fluid. "Thanks, Blake."

"No problem."

Inside the house, Glynda started the hunt. Without leaving her seat, she opened up her senses to the house. Searching for signs of fae infestation, for warding glyphs in the wooden beams or burning incense. She pried. "It's a shame it took us this long to meet, Tai. Since our kids seem to be such good friends. Have you lived here long?"

Tai nodded. "Since Yang was born."

The photos on the mantle and the walls showed a family of four. Glynda had to hand it to Ruby; she looked strikingly like the older woman in the picture. Again she found herself doubting reality; did a fae really live here? No trace of magic lingered in the house. She couldn't smell it or hear it or sense it. Changelings always left a mark, even if it was made one night nineteen years ago, it should still be here.

But it wasn’t.

There wasn’t anything.

Maybe that's why it took so long for Ruby to change. If Yang had never exposed her to the magical world at all...

"Are you sure I can't write you a check?" Tai said, bringing her back to the present.

Glynda shook her head. "If I'm being a little inflexible about this, it's because Ruby insisted she try to make things up to me herself. I think we need to encourage that kind of responsibility in our young."

In the end, Tai agreed, as she knew he would. They shook hands again and as Glynda left, she did one more sweep of the house.

Nothing. And if anyone would have been able to find traces of fae it would be Glynda.

Outside, the three pups hurriedly crushed the cigarettes out on the dirt, looking at her expectantly.

"You two," Glynda said to Blake and Yang, "Will continue as you have, arriving every full moon. But I'm going to need to see Ruby at least once a week." To test her capabilities, get a feel for her power and lineage, and possibly search for her actual mother.

With Ruby in her possession, she had a lead. Glynda had completed successful hunts with much less.

“I have to arrange the meeting with the other Shepherds.” They exchanged numbers. “Keep your humanity in mind and don’t let Yang influence you. _She_ has to obey the moon, you don’t.” Glynda tapped her forehead. “Remember that. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Is that it?” Ruby said, wringing her hands. “What if I change again?”

“Try not to.”

“Glynda...”

“I won’t lie. I don’t have much advice for a changeling.” Glynda made a noise of apology. “If you want, you could move in with me for a while. I could monitor you...”

Ruby quickly shook her head no. “What would you tell me if I was a werewolf?”

Thinking hard, Glynda pulled her pocket square out of her jacket and pressed it into Ruby’s hands. “Here. This smells like me. Keep your nose sharp and remember your Shepherd has standing orders that you need to obey.”

If Glynda couldn't gather the other Shepherds this month, then she would angle for the next. Of course it wasn't likely any of them would know what to do with the lost fae-child, either. It was more a matter of courtesy. Ruby needed to be introduced to the people who would be her guardians from here on out.

And they all needed to know that the witches were not allowed to get their hands on her.

Ever.

They parted ways, Blake driving off in their truck and Yang and Ruby lingering behind in the driveway. They waved as Glynda pulled out, Ruby a little harder than Yang. She looked young and desperate and scared, but also resolute. It made Glynda's heart ache.

As a Shepherd there were lines that needed to be drawn. It was all too easy to get attached to the younger ones.

She had to remember that.

It was close to three in the afternoon by then. Glynda had an approximate plan of action and timeline to follow. She had a new pup, or something like it, to care for and guide.

A fae.

Would she be able to handle a fae? Glynda had already made her promises. Would she be able to keep them?

An uncomfortable feeling settled in her spine. Guilt. She tried to roll it off.

While driving, her phone buzzed. Against her better judgement, she smiled to see who it was from. The witch was listed in Glynda's phone under the name Coven Leader, but... Maybe it was time to change that? 

 ****As annoying as the younger woman could be, she'd been invaluable the previous night. Cinder had revoked her claim to Ruby, as well. They’d made a deal. And maybe it was time to start trusting her witch neighbors.

Half a century ago Glynda would have said it was impossible that she’d shelter a fae under her own roof. And not just because they were all dead, either. 

So who was to say that the witch couldn’t also change her stripes?

 _I have a surprise for you,_ the text message said.

Immediately, she shot herself down. What kind of thoughts were entering her head? She could only chalk it up to chaotic fae influence.

Change, ironically enough, could often be difficult for a werewolf of her age.

The phone buzzed again. Glancing away from the road, Glynda lifted it up to read the newest message.

Glass shattered. Her phone went flying out of her hand. Pained lanced through her wrist, aching all the way up her forearm. Slamming on the breaks, Glynda skid along the small country road, pulling over and sinking as low in her seat as she could.

Crystal bright fragments scattered over her lap, the tinkling noise almost musical.

More than that, more than the unholy, fiery pain spreading through her, more than the scent of burning rubber was fear. Only one thing provoked that kind of fear in a wolf, a noise she knew too well, a noise she hated.

[Someone had just tried to shoot her.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lX44CAz-JhU)


End file.
